"Where is it? We won't ask you again," the two men barked. Dr. Charles Morgan was overwhelmed with pain, fear, and despair all at once.
This had been his life's work; for the past decade and a half, he had dedicated himself to this special project.
Being a senior software engineer for most of his life and having this project sponsored by the government was supposed to be a blessing. Now, he's not so sure.
This software can hack any system worldwide and instantly steal any information or data. It's the dream of any government or intelligence agency.
How the information somehow got leaked and how he ended up in this situation is neither a mystery nor surprising.
Dr. Charles was tied to a chair, both hands and feet tightly strapped. Blood dripped from his mouth, nose, cuts, and bruises here and there.
His clothes ripped, his breathing ragged as he struggled for air, the taller of the two men slammed his boot into Dr. Charles's face again.
The chair collapsed, and he fell hard onto the floor. He winced in pain, his face distorted, and blood filled his mouth. The other man, the shorter of the two, raised the chair again with a menacing smirk.
"You're making this harder than it ought to be, Dr. Charles," the shorter one, Neil, said. "Tell us what we want to know, and this ends right here, right now."
Tom, the taller and more ruthless of the two, offered a condescending smile.
He moved toward the chair where Dr. Charles was strapped, both hands on Dr. Charles's bloody hands, and whispered softly but clearly, "Where is it, Dr. Charles? You can't win this."
I never thought it could end this way. I, the genius Dr. Charles Morgan… Well, why should I be surprised? I've prepared as best as I could.
They have nothing on me. Many months ago, after my work became known, I was celebrated and discreetly awarded. Everything seemed fine.
All I knew was that one of the government intelligence agencies had a plan to buy my work, to be done discreetly. Everything appeared fine.
Then I started noticing things—feeling like someone was watching me. It was undeniable. It became more than a feeling; I was sure of it.
More than twice, I saw a suspicious-looking car parked nearby, and I knew it was watching my house. The last time I tried to approach out of curiosity, it sped off.
Then there was the break-in, or whatever that was. The whole house was in disarray. It was obvious they were looking for something, and I know what it was. This has happened at least three times now.
I lost my wife, Camella, 12 years ago to cancer. It has just been me and my daughter Claire now. She means the world to me.
I can't help but worry about her. After seeing the trajectory of things. I did what any reasonable man who knew his life could be in danger or who was facing a near-death threat would do.
I tried my best to secure the 1 person I cared about the most, more than fame, accomplishment, success, or wealth. My precious daughter.
Claire mustn't be hurt. I later got to know that it was the CIA that wanted to buy my work. This was a lot to process. I should be happy, overjoyed that finally my years of labour will pay off, but no, I wasn't.
It was rather the opposite. I became worried, scared. What am I going to do?
The attacks were becoming more and more frequent, and I could sub-consciously see them closing in, having restless nights and terrible dreams.
I couldn't place my finger on it but I knew something bad was going to happen. I just knew it.
So I talked to a couple of close associates about it and my mentor also. He talked to some people about it. The matter wasn't heading anywhere towards being resolved.
I hired private security for a while, but even that seemed to draw more attention, and I later figured out that bribery and higher powers were a thing. I couldn't trust them.
I had no choice, so I took drastic steps to safely guide my only daughter. I did extensive research into very capable agents in the CIA, putting my software (which I also named The Camella helix) after my late wife to use.
This wasn't an easy feat; CIA operatives are very, very well protected, to say the least. It seems almost impossible, but thanks to my Camella helix.
It was done. Among so many very capable and outstanding agents was one who particularly caught my attention.
One very notable thing about this particular agent was that he was buried deep underneath, like so much effort, fire walls upon fire walls, security protocol upon protocol..he was the deepest among the deep.
I almost missed it, the only name I saw was Shawn. I don't even know if that was a real number or an alias.
It took me at least 6 solid months to get any substantial information about him. It wasn't easy.
This is the man I want to commit my daughter's safety to, so no price is too high.
I met with the agent in charge of purchasing my software (Camilla Helix). And give the condition that aside from the enormous amount of money they will be paying for it.
An arranged marriage had to be made between Agent Shawn and my daughter. At least for 5 years, after which they can both divorce or continue, I really don't care about that.
What matters most is my daughter's safety. And based on all my research and findings, this man has the capacity, skill, and resources to make that happen.
The dream of any good father is to give protection and provision for his family.
Claire is all I have. This Agent has both. I can't give up this chance.